Promises
by Shadowfang88
Summary: Yet another world meeting takes place, but this time is different... One person doesn't show up. How will all the other nations react to this? And what happens afterwards when some old, forgotten promises are finally remembered? T for language. Human names used (not very often). And its mostly GerIta, but there are lots of other pairings.
1. Another World Meeting

**I don't really have much to say about this story yet. It began as a bunch of random USUK stuff, but somehow turned into this. I have no idea... But I have tons of different ideas bouncing around my head for this story, so it's going to be a lot longer and more serious than I had planned. Anyways, hope you like it and please review!**

**Oh, and I don't own Hetalia, or any of the characters.**

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The ring of the doorbell echoed throughout the entire house, but it reached the ears of a peppy Italian man first.

"I got it!~" Italy called merrily, practically jumping out of his chair and launching himself out of the conference room to see who had just arrived. When he opened the door, his giddy expression immediately fell.

"America?" Italy whined, his body radiating with disappointment. Even the always cheerful blonde that had just walked in was beginning to frown.

"What's wrong, dude?" Quizzical blue eyes peered out through the glasses neatly placed on America's face.

"Oh, it's nothing… I just thought that-" Italy's voice dropped to a low mumble so quiet that America almost didn't hear him. "I thought that you were Germany…"

A smile again came to America's face, not understanding what the Italian meant by 'I thought you were Germany.'

"Ha! Come on, dude! I look nothing like Germany!" America strode past the depressed Italy, completely unaware of the man's sadness. "And besides, only heroes like me can look this epic!"

"It's about time you showed up!" Britain growled at the taller blonde man when he stopped in front of him. "Why do you always arrive late?"

"Germany's never late!" Italy cried out with tears forming in his eyes as he ran into the room opposite of where the world conference was about to begin.

"Well, maybe if you didn't keep jumping up and answering MY door, you wouldn't be so upset when it's not your boyfriend!" Britain turned his back to America to yell at the now bawling Italy.

"HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!" Italy wailed helplessly, a deep blush appearing on his face. Even though it was plainly obvious, he refused to openly admit his feelings for the German man.

"Stupid git…" Britain shook his head and sighed. He almost felt bad for the other nation.

"Wow! Excitement just goes wherever I go, doesn't it?!" America smiled wider, still clueless. Britain stared in utter astonishment that the other country could actually be so stupid.

_But that's what makes him so adorable. _The thought automatically popped into Britain's head without his control. _Where the bloody hell did that come from? I don't like America! Not like that! Not in any way! I haven't felt anything since then…_

_~~~~page break~~~~_

Half an hour later Romano had finally managed to coax (or more likely drag) his brother into the conference room so the meeting could begin. Everything was normal, except for a few things that stood out from the rest. Of those that stuck out was an emotionally conflicted Brit sipping tea while anxiously glancing across the table at a cheerful American (who was currently stuffing his face with cheeseburgers) and a disheartened Italian waiting for a certain tall blonde haired, blue eyed man whose seat at the head of the table was still empty.

_~~~~page break~~~~_

"I agree with America…" Japan murmured softly, knowing that siding with the American would cause the _least _amount of problems.

"Dammit, Japan! Stop agreeing with that idiot!" Switzerland pounded his fist angrily on the table. Switzerland's younger sister, Liechtenstein, gently patted her brother's arm to get him to sit down, but he refused.

"Oh, and I'm sure that you would absolutely love to enlighten us with your brilliant idea?" Austria rolled his eyes without bothering to look up at the blonde he was insulting. Switzerland instantly redirected his anger when he heard Austria's snobby voice.

"As a matter of fact-"

"I think Japan can agree with whomever he wants." Greece yawned, stopping what could have transformed into a violent argument between Austria and Switzerland. After stretching his arms lazily over his head, Greece gave Japan a small, reassuring smile.

"Um…Mr. Russia? Why don't you say something?" Lithuania's voice trembled as he spoke. It was very clear that his many terrifying years under Russia's control haven't completely worn off.

"But, wouldn't it be more fun to watch you try then come crawling back for help, da?" Lithuania nodded back quickly. What else was he supposed to do besides agree with the Russian?

The whole time Russia spoke, Poland glared furiously at him with a protective arm on the brunette's shoulder. Russia raised an eyebrow at Poland, acknowledging his pathetic attempt at keeping the Baltic country safe.

"Honestly… You need to stop bickering over things that have happened already; worry about the future for once-aru." China huffed under his breath. The western nations problems were really starting to get on his nerves, but that happened at every meeting. But something in particular seemed off today. Something with Russia…

"Personally, I believe anything that everyone else says is bullshit." France smirked, leaning back in his chair while silently admiring his own words.

"But, no one ever listens to me anyway…" Canada whispered down to the small, white bear sitting in his lap, but he earned nothing more than a curious stare and a 'Who are you?'

France's smirk slowly turned into a sad frown directed toward the shy country sitting away from everyone else at the meeting. In his head, France debated whether or not he should go over and comfort the man.

"You have to side with someone and I think that we should listen to America-" Britain froze mid-sentence, face growing pale. No one gave him a second thought when he abruptly excused himself from the meeting and quickly dashed out of the room. No one but America. The blonde gazed at the door Britain had just left though for a few seconds, wondering why he had ran out so suddenly. America bit his lip and tried his best to push any concerns into the back of his mind. When the meeting was over, he would have to check in on the other country.

"Come on! Why can't everyone just go along with my ideas for once! Everyone agrees with Germany all the time!" As soon as he said that last line, America wished he could take it back. Italy flinched at the sound of that name and received another furious glare from Romano.

"But- Germany's not here…" And that was what set Romano off.

"God damn it, Feliciano! Just get the hell over it already, alright?! Is it really that big of a deal that the potato bastard didn't show up for once?!" Romano stood up, towering over his twin. "If something ever happened to me, you wouldn't even give a shit and you know it!"

What seemed like hours passed by before Italy stood and looked directly into Romano's eyes.

"You don't think I would care? I'm your own brother, Lovino!" Italy raised his voice, causing the whole room to go dead silent and look at the two Italians. If there was one thing that Italy _never _did, it was raise his voice. "Of course I care about you! Do you honestly think I wouldn't notice if you went missing?!"

Romano wanted to look away from his brother, but he couldn't. Italy's face was stained with tears and his voice was becoming hoarse.

"If- if Germany's gone then something is wrong. And if no one else wants to see if he's okay, then I will!" With that, Italy turned and left the meeting room without even glancing back to see the then line of tears streaking down his brother's face.

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**Whew! This took a while. I actually re-wrote this too, which took much longer than I thought. But here it is!... Whatever it is... Not really sure how this is going to turn out though. There are going to be lots of pairings for sure; most of them are things that my friends made me add. Well, please keep reading; even though it might drag on for a while. And please review!**


	2. Secret Hopes

**This took much longer than expected. But, thanks to much persistence from my friend, it's finally done! Hope you enjoy and make sure to review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything about Hetalia whatsoever.**

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Romano didn't move his spot from the table until Britain came by and told him to get the hell out of his house. Even then, Romano was reluctant to leave. Leaving meant going home, a home that he shared with his brother.

A brother who now hated him.

He knew how Italy felt whenever he talked bad about Germany, but this time he had gone too far. Romano walked shakily, the fight with his twin still fresh in his mind. Before he could stop himself, new tears leaked from Romano's eyes.

_Why do I always have to ruin everything?_

_~~~~page break~~~~_

_Why the hell did I come here?! _

Romano found himself standing on Spain's doorstep. He didn't even know why he had bothered to come, but now he was here. And he had no idea what to do.

He fidgeted slightly, mulling over what would happen if he knocked on the door.

_Then the bastard would open it, duh. _Romano thought angrily. He didn't want to resort to _Spain, _but he didn't really have a choice. He couldn't go home, not after what happened; and he hated everyone else anyway. But he didn't hate Spain. In fact, it was just that opposite.

Ever since Romano had left Spain's house, he started developing feelings for the emerald eyed man. He even started missing living with him. And that was the part Romano hated. The whole time he had lived with the Spaniard, Romano had wanted to leave, but now he was coming right back.

"Damn it all…" The Italian hissed at the door. Slowly, Romano gathered the courage to knock softly on the wooden surface, but just once. Moments passed and there was no answer, no footsteps from the inside. Complete silence.

Romano hadn't even realized that he had been holding his breath, until he felt himself release a sigh of relief. Right as Romano turned to walk away; he heard the door fly open and Spain's familiar voice call out.

"Romano!" Spain wrapped his arms around Romano in a tight hug. "And I thought that you would never come back to visit me!"

"Let me go, bastard!" Romano squirmed to get out of the man's grasp, but soon gave up and just let himself fall into Spain's embrace.

When Spain was done with the hug, he held Romano by the shoulders and smiled brightly.

"I knew that you couldn't take care of yourself for very long-"

"I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Romano yanked away from the brunette, giving him a harsh glare. "I just… I don't wanna go home, alright? I don't even know why I bothered coming here."

Romano started to step back, still debating whether or not he should leave. He knew that coming to see Spain was a bad idea. Each time he came, an entire flood of emotions passed over him. But, some part of him wanted to stay here with Spain.

_I'm such a coward…I'm too afraid to even go home and face my own brother, and now I'm running away from this too._

"Lovi? You look pale, maybe you should come inside." Spain tugged at Romano's arms and managed to drag him inside the house. The door closed with a firm slam and suddenly a pair of warm arms embraced Romano's shoulders.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?!" Romano blushed furiously, but made to attempt to escape from Spain's tight hug. "And don't call me Lovi…"

"Awww, come on, Lovi! You know you have always liked my hugs!" A bright smile lit up on Spain's face as he squeezed Romano even more. "Now sit, tell me what's wrong."

_~~~~page break~~~~_

"Gerrmmaaanny~!" Italy called out while pounding rapidly at Germany's door. After his dispute with Romano, he ran over to the man's house, hoping to see why he was gone at the world meeting.

The Italian bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet, waiting for the door to open.

No answer.

Maybe footsteps then. Surely Germany was just taking his time because he knew it was Italy coming to pester him, anyway.

But even when Italy leaned in close to the door, there was no resounding foot falls.

"GERRRMANNNYYY!" Italy was now screaming at the top of his lungs, leaning out to try and look through the window next to the door, but the curtains were closed. At England's house, Italy was on edge because Germany hadn't showed up, but now that he wasn't even at his _own _house. Italy was officially concerned. No, not concerned, _panicked. _

_What if Germany is hurt? I have to do something! _

Italy scanned every side of the house, hoping he could find some way in. Maybe an unlocked back door or…

An open window.

Smiling proudly at his discovery, Italy skipped over to the window and with much struggle, hoisted himself up and flopped down into the room below.

_~~~~page break~~~~_

In a total ten minutes Romano managed to explain the events of the world meeting to Spain (who had been absent). And the second he reached the part about the fight with his brother, Romano had broke down and cried like a baby.

"Lovi! You never cry like this!" Spain concerned fatherly instinct instantly made him throw his arms around the man's shoulders and run a hand gently through Romano's chocolate brown hair. For the first time, Romano welcomed the embrace, even leaning in closer to muffle his sobs into Spain's shoulder.

"Feli mu-st ha-ate me… I sho-uld have never insu-ulted the stupid potato bastard in fr-ont of him…" Romano hiccupped quietly, his sobs had finally settled down, but a line of tears could still be seen trailing down his cheeks. In his mind, he could just see his twin crying the same way.

But unlike him, Italy didn't have a shoulder to cry on.

"Don't say something like that! You know that Feli could never hate you." Spain held on to Romano a bit tighter, wishing that he would stop crying. Each and every sob that came from Romano broke part of Spain's heart. He wasn't good with things like this; comforting people. But… he couldn't watch someone that he loved so much fall apart in his arms like this.

"Lovi." He whispered to the sobbing male. Carefully, Spain pulled Romano's chin up so the Italian was looking directly into his eyes. He briefly waited for some response, maybe a 'What, tomato bastard?' When no said comment came, Spain sighed, searching for the right thing to say.

"Lovino… do you remember that time when you were little? And I promised you that I would always be there with you when you needed me?"

"…yes…" Romano answered skeptically. Why was Spain bringing that up now? They had made that promise years ago; back when Romano was still afraid of living on his own after depending on Spain for so long.

"Well…I don't think I've lived up to that promise very well… ummm…"

"You're having trouble with this, aren't you?" Romano sighed and removed himself from Spain's hold. Now that he was no longer crying, he felt pathetic for clinging on to Spain like that.

"Hey! It's just that… well; you're hard to talk too! You always seem so mad about everything!" Spain threw his arms up, hoping to make a point. A red blush slightly crept up onto Romano's face when he folded his arms across his chest and turned away from the other nation.

"Or it's just because you're an idiot…"

Spain sat there speechless. For once, he was actually able to talk to Romano, but of course things just had to spiral into this… Romano's endless line of insults, and Spain not having a clue what to do about it.

"Lovi… never mind…" Spain groaned. How had he managed to screw things up so bad? "Anyway, what are you planning to do about Feliciano?"

Romano mulled this question over, but only for a second. Then he stood suddenly and quickly made his way to the door before Spain had the chance to stop him.

"Wait! Lovino!"

"I'm going after him! Wherever the hell he is…" And with that, Romano shut the door firmly behind, slightly torn on whether or not he wanted Spain to follow him.

It would be best if Romano did this on his own, because it was his brother. But there was also a little part, no, a very large portion of Romano's mind that silently hoped the Spaniard would come after him and make everything better. Just like he had promised.

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**Alright! I hope you liked this chapter, because there will be much more to come from this story. MUCH MORE. Sorry, but Italy didn't appear much in this one, and Spain and Romano won't be in the next chapter at all (Well, maybe a bit, I'm not sure yet). And to end my little spewl: Please, PLEASE keep reading and make sure to leave a review!**


	3. When He Left

**Ok, this time I'm not going to say much because I really want you to just start reading the chapter! I love this chapter so much, only because I love writing about USUK. Especially from Britain's point of view. That's it! I hope you love this chapter as much as I do!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters (of course)**

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After everyone left the meeting, and he had finally managed to kick Romano out, Britain had sulked upstairs into his bedroom. For once, he might actually be able to get some peace and quiet; without a perverted France, a whiny Italy, or another offer to become one with Russia.

But, there was still one little thing that was stuck in the blonde's mind.

"No!" Britain hissed, flopping down on his plush bed and dragging a pillow over his head. "You will not think of this, you will not, you will not!"

He couldn't allow himself to get emotional over things like this; things that involved _America_. America hated him anyway, so developing…_feelings_ for him would only make Britain's life harder than it already is. If he took a nap, surely he would forget about this nonsense…

When Britain had reached the verge of sleep, he heard the loud blare of a phone. The nation squinted angrily.

"Why do people always bother me?" A long groan rose from Britain's throat when the phone continued to ring and ring and-

There was a soft _beep_ and then the sound of his own voice politely directly the caller that he was busy and to try again later. And he _was_ busy; he never got the chance to relax anyway, so this counted as being busy. Britain suspected nothing strange when he heard a second beep, meaning someone was leaving a message. He swore to himself that it was France he was going to-

_Hey, Britain, dude. This is America, and well. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay and everything. I mean, you were acting really weird during the world meeting, so, umm…yeah. I hope you're alright, dude._

Britain's head flew up from the pillow. With wide eyes, he stared at the phone, imagining the face that matched that particular voice. America wanted to make sure he was fine? Since when does America care about, well, _anything?_ But that didn't really mean anything. America was just a little worried, which was perfectly.

"But no one else called." He reminded himself. A mild blush formed on his face and he couldn't stop the fluttering feeling that his heart was making. "Damn it. Damn it all…"

_~~~~page break~~~~_

With much effort, Italy pulled himself up and flailed wildly when he realized he misjudged how far away the floor was.

"WAHHHH!" A hard thud echoed through the quiet house when Italy plopped helplessly onto the cold floor. For a while, Italy slouched tiredly, expecting Germany to come out and yell at him for breaking in. A minute passed, and Italy waited desperately to hear the sound of the other man's voice, but everything remained oddly silent. For the second time that day, Italy could feel moist tears running down his cheeks.

_Where is he?_

_~~~~page break~~~~_

_ "Britain! BRITAIN!" A young boy came running up to the blonde man that he was calling for, spreading his arms out wide. With a tiny yelp, the child's foot got caught on a rock, which sent him face-first onto the ground. _

_ "WAHHHHH! BRITAIN!" The blonde turned around just in time to see the boy fall, and watch the water works begin. With a heavy sigh, Britain walked over and bent down to pick up the teary eyed boy. _

_ "America… how many times have I told you to watch where you're going?" Britain gently swiped small patches of grass out of America's hair, but used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away all the remains of dirt off of the boy's round face._

_ "I-I'm sowwie…" America sniffed a muffled cry into the older man's shirt. _

_ "It's alright. Just- promise me you'll be more careful?"_

_ "I promise!" A high pitched giggle escaped America's lips as he looked up cheerfully at the man holding him. Britain smiled back, admiring how the young nation could always manage to smile, even when he was crying. _

_ Britain reached up to ruffle America's hair, just like he always did, but everything suddenly seemed to fade away into a rainy blur. Panic rose in Britain's chest and he felt his heart race._

_ "America!" _

_ "Why?" A grim voice asked from a few feet away. Britain looked around wildly, searching for the familiar scenery of his homeland. His eyes stopped at a dirtied pair of boot in front of him. Pounding rain made it difficult to see exactly, but Britain was almost positive that those worn boots were coated in blood._

_ "Answer me, Britain! Goddamn it, why?" That voice. It couldn't be him. Reluctantly, Britain followed the sound of the voice._

_ "America?" He had the same sandy brown hair, now matted with sweat and blood and rain. His eyes were still the same bright blue, but the cheerful spirit was gone and replaced with pure anguish. _

_ "You used to be so strong…" America mumbled so softly that Britain barely heard it. Britain firmly pounded a fist onto the marshy ground that he knelt on, looking back down at his own bloodied clothes. _

I'm sorry. _Britain tried to say, but nothing seemed to come out of his mouth. _Please don't go…

_ With a final sad glare, America shook his head and started to walk away. _

Say something you idiot! Don't let him go…

_ "America…" Britain finally managed to choke out, but by then America had disappeared from sight._

"AMERICA!" Beads of sweat rolled down Britain's face as he woke up screaming. "Just… a dream…"

That had been more than just a dream; it was what had actually happened. America had left, and Britain had fought against, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to harm someone that he cared about. It seemed like so long ago that America had left to become independent. At the same time, it seemed like it was just yesterday that America had been a little country running around Britain's house playing with toy soldiers.

Britain wiped away all the moisture from his face, before realizing that it wasn't sweat, but _tears. _He had been crying.

Impossible.

One thing that Britain never did was cry. Never could he remember being reduced to this state. A sobbing mess that was crying over… Over what exactly? The past; something that everyday Britain wished he could go back and change. If he went back far enough, he could've stopped America, and then he could have told him how much he really loved him.

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**And another short chapter... yeah, sorry about that. And no Spain and Romano this time, and hardly any Italy (again). I'm trying to do a brief introduction to all the pairings (you can see all of them in the first chapter if you squint), then later I'll work on the main conflict, which in case you haven't figured it out, its 'Where the hell is Germany?!' Yep, that's pretty much the whole story there, and a mixture of everyone else's problems (which I personally love writing about) Anyways, please keep reading to chapter 4!**


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